


Sleepless

by Miya_Morana



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Sleep Deprivation (self-inflicted)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 13:32:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5418914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miya_Morana/pseuds/Miya_Morana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders isn't sleeping and Fenris isn't very good at convincing himself he doesn't care.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleepless

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hils](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hils/gifts).



> Hils gave me this prompt to work with: "Anders is working all hours because if he sleeps the Templars might come. Fenris is annoyed at how concerned he is about this." It's not as fluffy as I intended because Fenris was stubborn, but I hope you enjoy it! :)

Fenris first notices it after they kill the dragon at the Bone Pit. Well, the new one. Hawke has a claw stuck through her arm, and though she says it’s fine he insists on dragging her to the clinic, even if he has to break the door and shake Anders awake. There is no door-breaking or shaking required, because even though it’s so late some might call it early Anders is up, working, organising the potions on his shelves and listing the things he’ll need to procure soon.

He patches Hawke up easily, scolds her for not taking him along, and Fenris notices the dark circles under his eyes. Maybe he was just having one of those nights, Fenris shrugs mentally. He too, sometimes, stays awake too long when the nightmares are too insistent. It doesn’t mean anything.

But it’s the same thing every time they stop by the clinic, whether for healing or because Hawke does want the mage to join them, or just because they’re passing through Darktown. Day or night, whatever the time, Anders is working.

Fenris starts to pay closer attention. The mage looks exhausted. He’s jittery, his eyes always darting around them when they’re in the city. And there’s the potions that he keeps drinking. Fenris wonders if it’s an addiction, so he discreetly steal one.

Stamina potion. Which, as a mage, Anders shouldn’t need for fighting. It does help keeping someone awake, though, keeping the body moving through exhaustion. 

He’s not worried, he tells himself firmly as he lurks near the clinic, watching the people come and go.

He only cares because Anders often has their lives in his hands, he thinks as he observes the mage down another potion before following Hawke to the Wounded Coast.

It’s for the good of everyone else, he tries to convince himself when he raises the topic with Lirene, Anders’ assistant. He doesn’t care, he keeps telling himself, gritting his teeth, when she explain Anders is just very worried the Templars will show up when he’s sleeping.

“That’s why he never sleeps at the same hours, he told me. I agree, it does seem to be wearing him thin.”

Anders doesn’t sleep at irregular hours, Fenris knows that. Anders just doesn’t sleep.

And it’s going to put them all in danger, Fenris convinces himself as an excuse for caring.

Except so far it hasn’t, Anders has been able to heal them, and fight with them, just as efficiently as ever. He just looks miserable doing so. And Fenris cares, which is making him frown and groan when Varric asks if something’s wrong. How can none of them see what’s wrong?

Fenris finally snaps when Anders downs two stamina potions at once before following Hawke through the sewers, running after some criminal or other, Fenris doesn’t remember the details. As soon as they’re done, he grabs Anders by the elbow and drags him back to his clinic, barks at everyone their to leave.

They take one look at him and do as he says.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” Anders hisses through his teeth as Fenris rifles through the potions in the back cabinet.

“Making sure you get some rest, mage,” Fenris growls, shoving a sleeping draught into Anders’ hands.

“What?” Anders is staring at him as if Fenris haS suddenly grown a second head.

“You heard me,” Fenris replies aggressively. “Drink this, then sleep. I’ll stay here and keep any Templar who shows up at bay. Deal?”

“What?” Anders asks again after shaking his head.

“You. Drink. Sleep. I’ll be right here.” Fenris tells him, dragging a chair in front of the clinic doors.

“Why?” Anders asks, and at least he’s not repeating himself anymore. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t know,” Fenris grits through his teeth. “Now do as you’re told.”

Anders stares at him for a long moment, then nods and walks into the tiny room at the back of the clinic. A few minutes later, Fenris goes in to check that the mage actually obeyed. Anders is sprawled on the shabby bed, like he fell asleep while he was still sitting. the potion flask is on the ground, parts of its contents seeping through the floorboards. Anders fell asleep before finishing it.

Fenris sighs, shaking his head. He picks up the flask and puts in on the night table, then crouches down to grabs Anders’ legs and put them properly on the bed. He sits on the edge then, and takes off the mage’s boots, makes sure he’s in a comfortable position, and wraps the covers around him. His hands linger on the ruffled feathers of the coat. He wonders if Anders knows this is such a Tevinter style of coat. Probably not.

Anders’ face looks much more at peace now, softer, younger. Fenris brushes the blond hair away, his fingers brushing against the mage’s skin, the faint stubble.

He shouldn’t care for this mage, this fool who took a spirit inside of him, who’s letting that spirit drive him into an early grave. But he does care for the healer who mends his flesh, who helped him go after his former master, not just once but twice, who always drops everything to help his friends. He cares for Anders.

It’s annoying, Fenris thinks. But it’s the truth.

Anders mumbles in his sleep, grabs Fenris’s hand in his. Fenris sits on the edge of the bed for several hours, fingers laced with Anders’. He hopes he doesn’t come to regret this when Anders finally wakes up.


End file.
